|
|
|
Jewish World Review Feb. 14, 2005 / 5 Adar I Shevat, 5765 From barbarian to defender of the faith By Diana West
http://www.JewishWorldReview.com |
It would be a hoot to hop into a time machine and travel 40 years back,
with press clippings of Paul McCartney's Super Bowl performance in hand,
and try to explain to the folks in 1965 the cultural changes that were
in store for them. Not that this would be an easy task. Who in 1965
could imagine, as Beatlemania was approaching its anti-Establishment
crescendo, that the day would come when Beatle Paul would be the one the
whole nation would congratulate, according to one review, for providing
"decent half-time entertainment," fulfilling a virtual "guarantee he'll
be innocuous," while not minding "his role as the Super Bowl's atonement
for past excess."
The fact was, once, "decent," "innocuous" and "atonement" were not the
first words associated with young Paul, John, George and Ringo. As The
Beatles, they, more than any other rock act, produced the heartbeatingly
familiar and practically worshipped 1960s soundtrack of rebellion and
collapse. Or was that peace and love? I always get them confused.
In any case, the Fab Four were still combustibly controversial with
barely prevailing middle-class culture back in 1965. They were still
seen as the flying wedge of rock culture that sundered families and
propelled generations along separate tracks. Indeed, The Beatles were
rather more likely to be banned from major venues (as they were in
Cleveland) than credited with raising the moral tone inside them.
What would help 2005 explain to 1965 the transformation of Paul
McCartney from barbarian at the gate to defender of the faith? I'm not
sure that simply appending the appearance of the Beatle to the
appearance of the breast would make much sense. But even if The People
We Used To Be acknowledged that The People We Have Become regard Paul
McCartney as mainstream-wholesome, it remains very hard to explain why.
Sure, at age 62, Paul McCartney is older. But it's worth noting that the
songs he played to be innocuous and decent in the 21st century were the
songs he played to be groovy and cool in the 20th. In other words, he
didn't change: We did.
Listening to Sir Paul the other night (note: don't forget to tell 1965
that Queen Elizabeth knighted him in 1997) was an unnerving experience
for a kaleidoscopic — dare I say psychedelic? — mix of reasons. He was
in fine, if paler voice, hitting every familiar note and lick (to the
point where one critic wondered if he had been lip-synching). It was as
though the performance had been frozen in time, his for the remixing.
This is one thing if you're 62-old Pavarotti singing "Pagliacci," or
even 62-year-old Noel Coward singing "Mad Dogs and Englishmen." But
62-year-old Paul McCartney singing "Baby, you can drive my car" is
something else again. Jingle-catchy though the song may be, there was
something more than a little pathetic about "Car/star/car/cuz baby I
love you" 40 years down the pike; ditto for "Get Back," with its once
... Shocking? Unsavory? Dangerous? Reference to "California grass."
Today, of course, soaked in the tepid wash of a toxic mainstream, we
consider it decent.
I'm not sure what I was expecting, but the hollowness of the McCartney
music was a little surprising. That hollowness was probably accentuated
by the music's place very much at center stage, and by its distance from
the psychodrama of the 1960s. Long ago, The Beatles sang the songs that
accompanied the upending of a civilization — the anti-war movement, the
sacking of the universities, the explosion of illegal drug use, sexual
experimentation, four-letter-language; the cultural and stylistic works.
Theirs was a songbook redolent of the revolution that has permanently
eliminated the barriers and boundaries that once regulated the
mainstream. That revolution, of course, is how we got to Janet Jackson's
MTV moment last year in the first place.
It's also how we got to Paul McCartney's performance-to-the-rescue.
Having rejected flesh, primetime has turned to "innocuous," a move that
reveals just how grossly limited the spectrum of popular entertainment
has become. It also shows how the injection of rage and revolution and
smut and self-pity into the cultural mainstream seems to have pretty
much dried the whole thing up. Certainly, the life has leached out. This
isn't to say Paul McCartney was "offensive." He was indeed quite
"innocuous." And he didn't seem to mind a bit his role as "atonement"
for past Super Bowl excess. Which, I guess, is about as good as it gets
these days in the muddy old mainstream. But frankly, I think 1965 would
say we told you so.
Every weekday JewishWorldReview.com publishes what many in Washington and the media consider "must-reading". Sign up for the daily JWR update. It's free. Just click here.
© 2005 Diana West | ||||||||||
